by Sarah Noffke
Still, without the kiss at the end of the show, the audience erupted with applause to be heard blocks away. The reviews flowed in about the new show, and the upcoming performances in Beaverton, Salem, Eugene, and Medford all sold out while the Vagabond Circus was still in Portland.
Dave had never been happier, but Titus was still holding a grudge over their last argument. The creative director wasn’t the only one walking about with tense shoulders and a pinched face. It could have been their new success but everyone’s emotions were heightened at Vagabond Circus. Padmal was moodier, Fanny’s kids more restless, and Sunshine extra glum.
Most would have thought that Sunshine would find a way to be happy. She’d received her first standing ovation in Portland. The weird people of the city really appreciated her fire act, which usually left the audience breathless with fear.
“Let’s figure out what you did differently during that show and try and replicate it,” Dave said to her during rehearsal one afternoon.
She’d only gotten that one standing ovation and then none again for the last two shows. Dave was encouraging her to tweak her act for tonight’s performance.
“I don’t need the extra attention,” she said, a fiery look in her eyes.
“Oh, did the applause bring the forbidden emotion of happiness to your black heart?” Jasmine said from the sidelines underneath the big top.
Sunshine zipped her gaze in the direction of where the four acrobats were stretching. She then shot a beam of fire from her hand and it landed in the dirt just beside where Jasmine sat.
“What the hell?” the girl said, rolling to the side, although the fire disappeared into the dirt almost at once. “What’s your problem, Sunshine? It was just a joke.”
“I don’t like your jokes,” the pyrokinetic said. Sunshine felt the emotions in Dave building and then on cue they erupted.
“What has gotten into everyone?” he said, his voice bordering on yelling. He stared at Sunshine with a confused expression. Then he turned and shot the same look at Jasmine. “Rule number one,” he said with such severity. “Never, ever forget rule number one.”
Both girls nodded in unison.
Zuma widened her eyes at Jack, and then at Finley, both of whom had curious expressions. Jack and Finley hadn’t said a word about what happened after that first show and both seemed to have moved past it easily. Actually Zuma noticed that Finley and Jack got along without incident. She thought it was good for Jack to have a male acrobat on the team.
“I can’t do it any faster,” Padmal said on the other side of the tent, gaining the acrobats’ attention. She was practicing with Oliver, who looked taken aback by her sudden flare of anger.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I just meant—”
“I know what you meant and you’re pushing me and I’m tired of it. You’re doing what Dave is doing to Sunshine right now and I won’t put up with it.” Padmal had no idea that everyone had stopped to watch the fit she was throwing. She was too consumed by the fury she’d harbored for too long. It shot out like Sunshine’s fire flew out of her. “I don’t want to be in your act anymore!” she yelled at Oliver, who looked instantly heartbroken.
“But Padmal, I need you,” he said.
“No, you don’t,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Hey, my lovelies,” Dave said, striding over, “what seems to be the issue over here?”
Padmal turned to Dave, her brown eyes seeming to try to curse him. “Everything is the issue,” she said.
“Well, let’s talk about it,” Dave said in an encouraging voice.
Oliver looked from Padmal to Dave, his face a mixture of anger and embarrassment. “I think, Dave,” he said in a restrained voice, “that Padmal and I can sort this out on our own.”
Dave again gave that look of confusion. He was sincerely baffled by his performers. They had never acted with such diabolical emotions and it was bringing back a waking nightmare. Things needed to be scaled back a notch. He had to decelerate whatever was causing this tension. He cast his eyes to Finley. He wasn’t sure why he thought he had something to do with it. It was just strange timing, he told himself. But he wasn’t sure he believed that. There was something askew at the Vagabond Circus and he felt blinded to it. He knew because of Ian that dark days were ahead for the circus, but not yet. He still had time. Time to offer his support.
“Can I have everyone’s attention,” he said to the tent of performers. Everyone paused and turned their attention to the ringmaster. “We are all going to take a mandatory five-minute break. No working. No talking about work. Just put your mind at ease. It starts now.”
Around the tent various performers laid down props or abandoned their practice areas, trailing off to the refreshment table.
Dave strolled over to the mat where the acrobats were still lounging. They hadn’t needed a break since they rarely practiced between shows at Dave’s order. Their acts were perfect and he didn’t want Finley and Zuma overexerting themselves.
“What’s everyone’s problem?” Zuma said to him when he stopped by their area. He had set up his workstation beside them.
Dave grabbed his notebook with a heavy sigh. “I haven’t gotten a clue,” he said, studying Finley, who was the only one of the acrobats who didn’t have his eyes on Dave. He looked distracted by something in the crowd behind Dave. The ringmaster turned, but only found an assortment of performers chatting.
“Well, I apologize for my joke,” Jasmine said, grabbing the water bottle beside her and unscrewing the lid.
Dave noticed that the side of the bottle had “DR” written on it in black marker. His initials. His bottle of water. He was about to say something but Jasmine already had it pressed to her lips. I’ll just get a new drink, he thought. He didn’t want to embarrass her.
“You know, who you really need to apologize to is Sunny,” he said.
Jasmine nodded. “I will,” she said, scooting to her feet before trotting toward the pyrokinetic who was still sulking on the other side of the tent.
Dave watched, with curious eyes, the brief interaction between the two girls. It appeared to him that they were at least making a show of looking amenable to each other. Things will settle down, he told himself, once the excitement of the success wears off. That’s all it was.
Jasmine strode back through the crowd, something in her hands.
“Minnie, you are a sweetheart,” Dave said to her when she was close. “Always trying, aren’t you?”
“I admit that I’m pretty fabulous,” she said with a sideways smile. “And I’m helpful too. I intercepted a message from Titus. That older kid was looking for you so he could hand it off.” Jasmine then handed a crisp, folded piece of paper to Dave, who took it with a raised eyebrow. It wasn’t like Titus to send him notes. They both preferred to talk in person.
Finley stood suddenly, each of his movements a blur. No one really caught the look of fear that surfaced in his eyes before he sprinted through the tent. He had raced in the direction of Oliver and Padmal, who still looked to be arguing, although quietly. And only Zuma saw this, as everyone else was studying Dave’s confused face. Zuma knew a myriad of stressful thoughts were pouring through the ringmaster’s head, but she couldn’t help but keep her attention on Finley as he darted around the crowd, trying to find his way through the tent. Her attention was always inadvertently on Finley. His on her as well, most of the time. But now he was searching and then he was gone from her sight. Disappeared.
Dave brought his gaze back to Jasmine. “Thank you,” he said absentmindedly in Jasmine’s direction as he broke the seal on the paper. He opened it with a tight look and then scanned the contents, his face growing heavy with concern.
Zuma stood at once, reading the look in his eyes and the thoughts in his mind.
“What is it?” Jack said, standing too.
Dave shook his head with disbelief, dropped his hand to his leg, the letter with it. “It’s Titus’s letter of resignation.”
/> “What? That’s impossible,” Jack said, reaching for the letter, but he never got to it because in that moment Jasmine swayed, unsteady on her feet, and then fell to the mat, completely passed out.
Chapter Fifty-Three
“Jaz!” Zuma yelled, dropping to her knees beside her friend. Her fingertips went straight to Jasmine’s pulse on her wrist.
“What’s happened to her?” Jack said behind Zuma.
Dave leaned down, dropping the resignation letter on the ground, forgetting it at once. “Is she…?” he asked to Zuma, who had her ear down by Jasmine’s lips.
“She’s breathing, but it’s faint,” Zuma said and then she brought her shocked eyes up to find Finley returning, looking defeated. His gaze flashed to Jasmine and then to Zuma’s face.
“Go get Fanny,” she yelled to him. “As fast as you can.”
He nodded, a startled expression blanketing his face, and then disappeared in a blur of movement.
There was nothing for Jack, Zuma, and Dave to do except sit next to Jasmine. They’d need to wait for Fanny to examine her. She had a medical degree and also the skill of healing. Performers were now turning their attention on the scene, but stayed back, sensing the seriousness of it.
Dave thought the wait would make him pass out as well, and then his eyes drifted to the water bottle lying on its side next to Jasmine. The initials on it burned like a branding on his heart: DR.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Zuma paced outside Jasmine’s trailer. Dave and Jack stood under a nearby tree sheltering themselves from the unrelenting July heat. Finley took turns watching Zuma and then Dave. He had left to fetch Fanny and returned faster than what for most would be humanly possible. He was a blur until he stopped beside Zuma. She hadn’t left Jasmine’s side until Fanny arrived and ordered the girl to be transported to her trailer. Finley and Jack had been elected for the job and to everyone’s astonishment Finley was hesitant to perform the duty. Finally Jack picked up the girl and tossed her over his shoulder. She hung limp in his arms. Zuma shot a confused look at Finley as they followed to Jasmine’s trailer.
“I can explain,” he mouthed.
“Are you going to?” she asked at his side.
“Not right now,” he deflected and hoped that she’d forget the whole thing and not bring it back up. He could explain but he really didn’t want to. There was so much Finley could explain, like why Jasmine was passed out in the first place. However, he didn’t dare. He was too far into this now. There was no going back. No changing plans. His eyes flicked up to Jasmine’s lifeless form. If she woke up she’d live. If she didn’t then she’d stay locked away in a coma forever or die immediately. Finley was certain there was nothing Fanny could do and so there was no point in telling anyone what he knew.
As he sat on the doorstep of Jasmine’s trailer, the newbie’s eyes studied Dave under the nearby tree. It was obvious why the ringmaster was stressed right now. One of his performers was sick. But Finley saw the nervous stress under that. Dave wasn’t just worried, he was on edge. And Finley had studied the ringmaster while they waited in the big top for Fanny to arrive. The ringmaster’s eyes swiveled from Jasmine’s lifeless body to the water bottle a few feet away. The one with his initials on it and also Jasmine’s lip gloss around the mouth of the bottle. The ringmaster may have been wrong in his suspicions, but he was suspicious now. He’d be more careful. He’d be vigilant. Finley wasn’t certain if that was going to work in his favor or not. People make mistakes when motivated by fear.
The newbie’s eyes then swiveled on Zuma. She hadn’t stopped moving since they were told to wait outside for a prognosis. Her concern drained her face of her normal spark. She was still beautiful, but now it was a poetic beauty, like a sad but elegantly written poem.
Finley stood in one fluid movement and reached out for Zuma as she passed. She sensed this and pulled herself away at once.
“Don’t,” she said, halting. Her frantic eyes covered Finley in a way that broke him a little.
Why had he reached for her? Did he think he had the right to comfort her? That she’d allow it? He wondered all of this as he watched her watching him. So many unspoken messages transpiring between the pair.
And yet Zuma’s quick rejection confounded all Finley’s reason. He instinctively knew he could make her feel better. He didn’t know how he knew that but with everything inside him he knew what Zuma needed. And now after staring at her face he knew she knew too and didn’t want it. Zuma wanted to be alone with her pain.
“I was just going to—”
She closed her eyes and nodded, cutting him off. When she looked back at him she almost appeared apologetic. “Yeah, I know.” She wrapped her arms around herself. Then her gaze shot to the side. She noticed Titus approaching before the rest of them. The man ran in their direction, worry blanketing his face. Dave caught sight of him and strode forward, meeting him.
“What’s going on?” Titus asked.
“We don’t know,” Dave said, shaking his head, worrying the rim of his top hat in his gloved hands. He used his hat as a toddler did a luv, kneading it for comfort. “Fanny is examining Jasmine now.”
The taller man hung his head, releasing a breath. “Tonight’s show, we’ll need—”
“Titus,” Dave said, a quiet warning in his voice. He was admonishing Titus for his one-track mind, always circling around the circus. It had been a contention among the two men. Titus focused on the show and Dave focused on the employees.
“I’m still concerned for Jasmine, but we need to figure out how to replace—”
“Titus, you resigned,” Dave said in a hush, hurt stinging his words.
The taller man covered the back of his neck with his large hand, keeping his eyes away from Dave’s. “Yeah, bad timing on that, I realize now.”
“But how at any time can you resign? And the way you did it, just having a kid drop off a note?” Dave shot his friend a look of serious disappointment.
From fifteen feet away Zuma and Finley couldn’t hear the two men’s exchange. Finley was reading the body language and knew Dave had the upper hand already, making Titus squirm with regret.
Zuma didn’t have to be able to hear to know exactly what was going on between the two. Jack arrived at her side with a look of curious concern. “What’s the deal?” he asked Zuma.
“Titus resigned because he’s tired of Dave using the ‘this is my circus’ card and trumping all his decisions,” Zuma said, her eyes hinged on the two men in the distance.
“It’s just not how I want to work anymore,” Titus said, his voice low so as to not attract attention. “You want me to invest my life in this circus and then you don’t trust my decisions, you don’t even give us the opportunity for discussion. You brought Finley in without talking to me. And then you won’t even consider the idea of adding extra shows. I’m just getting tired of having no say in the circus.”
“But I was right to bring Finley in midseason,” Dave said, throwing his arm in the newbie’s direction.
“That’s not the point,” Titus said. “You could have included me in the decision. We could have had a discussion about the extra shows. But instead you just say, ‘It’s my circus and no more discussion.’”
Dave sucked in a weighty breath, his face softening as he did. “Well, you know this circus can’t lose you so what do you want me to do to make this right?” Dave said and then a beat later he added, “And fair. How can I make our arrangement fair?”
“You know under the best circumstances I will manage this circus with you for the rest of my life,” Titus said, his words earnest. “I’m married to Vagabond Circus and the magic and healing it brings to its audiences.”
“So,” Dave said, stroking his chin, “the question is, what are the best-case circumstances?”
“I want to own part of the circus,” Titus said in a rehearsed voice.
“What?” Dave almost choked on the word.
Titus shook his hands in front of him. “
Now, now, now. This isn’t about money. This is your baby and you gave me this position. I see all that for what it is. But I can’t make the best decisions for Vagabond Circus as long as you own it. Dave, you have to give up some of the control. You think with your heart and I think with my head. We make a great team, but not as long as you keep shutting me out. And you feel the weight of it because you know that if it fails then it’s on you. Let me own Vagabond Circus with you. Give me ten percent or five percent. Just give me something so that I own a piece of it and you can’t make unilateral decisions. Just give me enough so you remember I’m your partner.” Titus paused, his eyes studying Dave in that way Titus did when watching an act, looking for the part that was potentially missing.
Again and again Dave ran his fingers over the rim of the teal blue top hat. It was as old as the circus, patched in too many places. The ringmaster hung his head low, his eyes on the dirt under his feet, his mind reflecting on the proposition. After a long moment Dave brought his head up and stuck out a gloved hand. “I’ll give you the whole damn circus if you take back your resignation,” he said, a smile peeking out under his brown mustache. “Just keep me on as the ringmaster, would you?”
Titus coughed out a relieved chuckle. “Oh, Dave, I don’t want the whole circus, you know that.”
“I do, my friend, but you’re getting forty-nine percent. And maybe one percent of the time you’ll allow me to trump your decisions,” Dave said with that trademark glint in his eyes. This was perfect, Dave thought. Everything was lining up, just as Ian had said. He hadn’t expected the resignation but he had expected to give Titus part of the circus.